She climbs down the ladder, comes towards us, discarding her work gear, and goes right to Carlos. I keep my eyes on Isabella, watching her as she tries to hide her embarrassment.
Anna introduces herself to Carlos and starts to fuck around with him, hiding behind his massive hand and flirting with him. I look back at them over my shoulder and Anna is up close, hand on his chest, batting her eyes asking if he’ll lift her up on his shoulder.
My temper flares and I lose it.
“Anna! Will you please have some decorum? This is not, nor will it be time to play around with Carlos. He has a job. One you might consider doing your own instead of shaking your ass for all to see.”
That stops her dead in her tracks and she gets right up in my face, eyes crystal blue, jabbing her finger in my chest, telling me my name isn’t on her name tag, and my ring isn’t on her finger so I’m not the boss of her.
I see red and push back, telling her to remove her finger before I do, and then she yells in my face, “I may be little but I am damn well a woman. What’s your plan, big guy? Are you going to bite off my boob as punishment, too?
At that moment, Carlos steps in and grabs her around the waist, hoisting her off to the side, holding her against his hip, and putting his hand on my chest. I’m shocked. She told Anna about last night. And I didn’t bite her breast off; I made it clear what happens when you lie to me.
I step around the wriggling Anna in Carlos's arms, and say, “You told her? Are you crazy? What takes place between you and me is private.” I point at the ground. But she’s not on the platform, or at her desk. She’s not anywhere I can see as I dart my eye aroundlooking for her.
Just then, Anna goes perfectly still in Carlos’ arms. Carlos's eyebrows raise and he looks at me over Annas' head with an oh fuck expression.
Anna narrows her eyes at me and then she goes bat shit crazy; she pulls some kind of Ninja ass move where she bends her back over Carlos’ shoulders, arms around Carlos’ waist, and flips herself upside down over his back, then she rights herself grips Carlos's waist and comes sliding out, John Travolta style on her knees between his legs.
She’s up and in my face in three seconds. Holy Hell!!
“Don’t you ever,EVERcall her crazy. She’s not crazy. And if you keep pushing her, she’ll go home, and if that happens, I’ll never forgive you. She’s been through enough and if she goes there, she won’t come back this time. I’ll not lose her because you want to push your dick around.”
Carlos steps between us and uses Anna’s shoulders to move her back. I straighten up, more confused than ever.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Anna turns away and says, “Nothing.” over her shoulders. She looks around the room.
“Izzy? You can come out now. I’m done arguing with this asshole.”
We all wait, but she doesn’t come out. Anna looks behind the huge rack of paintings and Carlos goes to look out into the hall. I make my way over to the fresco and look behind it.
She’s gone!
Anna pops her head around the rack. “She’s left. Raised voices or arguing scares the shit out of her. She ran. Shit, shit, shit!” She puts her hand on her forehead and rubs it.
“Where would she go?” I yell.
She has no car; Anna said she would go home. She can’t mean Robert’s house. Now I’m panicking.
“You said she would go home. Is there any way she can get to her father’s house from here without a car?”
Anna slumps her shoulders and looks at me like I’m stupid. “It’s not her father’s home, you asshole, and if she hasn’t told you, I’m definitely not going to.” She squares her shoulders and glares at me. “Never mind, we’ll find her.”
She starts walking to the door and Carlos comes rushing in. “She’s not outside in the car and her boss didn’t see her walk by.”
Anna looks at Carlos, “We’ll split up, I’ll take the archives since you two dicks don’t have access, and Carlos, you look in the main part of the museum.”
She points her tiny finger at me. “Asshole, you take the left wing, look for the painting called The Old Guitarist It’s her favourite painting, she goes there mostly when she’s sad.”
She leaves me standing there fighting for words. I want to choke her so badly, and I’m so pissed that she has the audacity to even think she can speak to me that way.
I finally move and get my head back to where it belongs. If I find her staring at that painting, I’m going to take her home, lock her in her room and tan her ass. This is bullshit, running away like a child.
I go through the main lobby, looking at a map of the building, and find which way I need to go. I run, darting around, looking for any dark-haired woman I can find. I scan each room as I pass, finally coming to a room that says, Picasso. I rush into the room, startling a few people admiring the art. I stop at the painting and look at the bench.
She is not here. I sit down on the bench and rest my elbows on my knees, grabbing a hand full of my hair in frustration. God damn it!
